


Make Me Feel (something else)

by fluffmonsterc3



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Make-out, based on a scene in canon, canon character death implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-16 01:19:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffmonsterc3/pseuds/fluffmonsterc3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this kinkmeme prompt:<br/>I don't know what it is about that scene where Tony's looking at where Loki's cage used to be and Coulson's apparent death scene and Steve comes up and stands to the side, but every time I watch it, I just want Steve to use that Super Soldier strength by grabbing Tony, shoving him against the wall and kissing the breath out of him.</p><p>So that's it. I don't care if it leads to wall sex or anything, I just want Steve to slam Tony against the wall and kiss the hell out of him. Cue heavy make out with their hands wandering everywhere.</p><p>Bonus: During the make out, Steve hauls Tony further up the wall so that they're at eye level.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Me Feel (something else)

\--

**Make Me Feel (something else)**

\--

"Was he married?"

Steve's steady voice sounds hollow in the large room, bouncing off of the metal walls from where he just entered from the side.

"No." Tony answers, eyes locked on the empty space where the holding cell used to be, feeling an odd fixation on it like it illustrated how empty and blank he felt inside. "There was a uh... cellist, I think," he says to try and fill the space.

"Sorry," Steve replies, sounding sincere in a way that makes Tony's chest ache. He continues quietly, "He seemed like a good man."

Anger snaps through Tony all at once, that feeling of abandonment that stings so viciously Tony can't tell if he wants to cry or scream. So he just moves, stepping back from the edge to be further away from that pit of a hole.

"He was an idiot." Tony bites out, slinking along the walkway towards Steve and the exit. He so doesn't want to have this conversation.

"Why? For believing?"

Tony glares at Steve, clenching his teeth and replying, "For taking on Loki alone."

"He was doing his job," Steve states, tone hardening, uncrossing his arms and walking towards Tony.

Tony snorts. "He was out of his league," he says, stopping to glare and gesture broadly to distract himself from the whirling feelings tightening his chest and roiling through his stomach. "He should've waited. He should've--"

"Sometimes there isn't a way out." Steve placates softly, moving to stand beside him. "Tony."

Brushing past Steve, feeling the frustrated tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, Tony turns back and rasps out, "Right." He turns his head to the floor, gathering himself together. "I've heard that before."

"Is this the first time you've lost a soldier?"

And the anger is back. Tony whips around and glares at Steve. "We are not soldiers."

Then Steve can see it. The pain burning behind Tony's watery brown eyes. Then Tony's mouth closes, frowning and damn near trembling. It shoots a warm feeling of protectiveness and fondness so strong that Steve can't resist stepping closer, well within Tony's personal bubble. They're so close they're practically sharing air. Steve can feel every puff of hot breath from Tony's nose, the warmth emanating from Tony's chest. He can even see the pattern of overlapping browns and flecks of gold in Tony's eyes.

But it's still not close enough.

Using his strength in a way only he could, Steve moves, lifting up Tony with his hand under his arms, bracing him solidly to where Tony's arms wind around his, Tony's hands gripping Steve's broad shoulders as his eyes blow wide in surprise. Steve steps to the wall, practically lunging them forward to push Tony against it, affectively pinning him.

Steve moves in close, leaning down, head tilted and bowed to brush their noses together, eyes locked. Tony seems to be searching him for some kind of confirmation. Steve is just relieved that Tony isn't cursing and pushing him away by this point.

He wants Tony to understand. He wants to protect him. In that moment everything he had learned about Tony had snapped into focus.

Tony is so emotionally fragile. That’s where all of his anger comes from.

Steve can barely remember what it’s like to be so wrecked after a fellow soldier dies. Seeing that in Tony triggers something in him. It was something precious. So he let his emotions show through, relaxing his face and pouring all of his care and understanding in his blue eyes, letting his hands spread wide to cup Tony's sides, sliding down gently to rest on his hips.

Tony must find what he's looking for, because he just leans his head back against the wall and snarks, "You gonna kiss me or what?"

Then Steve is lunging forward, slotting his lips against Tony's, pressing his head against the wall. Tony tastes like mint and honey. Steve breaths out harshly from his nose, sliding his lips against Tony's smooth ones. He definitely used some kind of chapstick. No ones' lips should ever be that smooth.

Their lips practically slick against one another, warm and sweet. Steve can't get close enough. Tony is panting against him, breathing in gasps through his nose and what he can inhale between kisses. Steve tilts his head the other way, locking his lips on Tony's and shifting his body forward, putting a strain on his neck bending down.

So he fixes it.

Hands gripping Tony's hips, Steve shifts his hold to the junction where Tony's thighs meet his glorious ass, pulling Tony up the wall to be even with Steve, the sound of Tony’s clothes rubbing against the metal wall is almost loud in the silent metal chamber.

Then he moves forward, slotting their warm bodies together, chest the chest, pelvis to pelvis. Tony groans into his mouth, moving his hands to grip either side of Steve's head, fingers framing his face, palms cupping his cheeks, fingertips nudging into his hairline. Tony's legs wrap around Steve's waist, feet locking as their lips slide against each other.

Tony definitely didn't expect Steve to be as good a kisser as he is. The pressure is just right, alternating strong possessiveness and soft caring. But there's only so much tongue-less kissing Tony can take. Call him a sensationalist, if you will. He likes the dance of dominance it calls into play.

So Tony is the first one to slit open his mouth and swipe a hot, wet stripe against Steve's lower lip with the very tip of his tongue. Steve obviously isn’t one for lip care like Tony is. His lips are rough in places. Tony’s tongue laves at them, teeth nipping at Steve’s bottom lip to get him to open up.

Moaning into Tony’s eager mouth, Steve relaxes his jaw, dropping his mouth open just enough for Tony’s hot, wet tongue to slither through, rubbing right up against Steve’s tongue. Tony’s tongue tilts, sliding against the side of the slightly larger one tentatively moving against his. Definitely a frenching virgin. Hands gripping Steve’s head slightly harder as Tony’s hips give an involuntary roll downward against Steve’s pelvis, Tony sighs shakily out of his nose, inhaling deeply for maximum lip lock time.

He wants to kiss Steve forever. And maybe do a little bit of heavy petting.

That tight, aching feeling in his chest is still kind of there, stinging in the far recesses of his heart, but this. This slow, warm kissing is definitely helping to ease the ache. Steve tastes like he’d brushed his teeth with some weird flavored toothpaste. Strawberry? Raspberry? Some kind of berry. It's definitely sweet and tangy, if his tongue was anything to go by. 

He can't quite get close enough. Moving one of his hands from Steve's face, Tony lets it wander down that tight chest, rubbing against the soft cotton fabric to create some friction right against Steve's hard, muscled physique. He lets his hand wander, rubbing up and down from Steve's chest down to his rippling pectorals that flex against his hand. Damn he's so warm.

Tony tilts his head the other way, keeping their lips locked together and sliding with delicious friction, his tongue thrusting in and out of Steve’s mouth slowly, rubbing the sensitive, taste bud covered top of his tongue against the side and sweet-tasting top of Steve’s. Their harsh breathing and the wet smacking of their lips coming together and apart, in the rare moments to quickly inhale, fill the metal chamber, almost echoing against the walls.

It isn’t just a slow, sweet makeout anymore. Both of them get almost desperate, Steve’s hands slide to Tony’s ass, gripping and squeezing encouragingly as Tony does this amazing thing with his tongue. He's using the smooth tip to rub erotically against the roof of Steve's mouth, almost in a way that tickles.

So Steve starts to push him away with his tongue, wriggling up against the underside of Tony’s and rubbing against the side, moaning into the kiss as Tony’s grip tightens on his head, his other hand flexing enough so that his fingertips and blunted nails scratch down his abdomen and up his back, making his shirt ride up a little. Steve moans deep into Tony's mouth, pressing tighter.

Their kiss gets messy, mouths getting coated in saliva as their tongues fight for which mouth they want to be in. Steve can’t get enough of Tony’s taste—the mint of his toothpaste, the sweet honey taste of his chapstick. He bites Tony’s bottom lip, laving at the bit of skin with his tongue as Tony gasps and groans, rolling his hips down and onto Steve’s answering bulge.

Things are getting way too hot way too fast to happen in this chamber. It was too soon.

So Tony is the one to pull back, and Steve lets him. They rest their heads together, panting hot breaths against each other’s faces, chests heaving.

“Holy shit,” Tony pants out after he gathers enough breath.

Steve just chuckles, hands giving Tony’s ass a little squeeze.

“Yeah.” Then Steve pulls back enough to look Tony in the eyes. They aren’t a sad, aching brown like before. They have spark and seem brighter. Steve can’t help the smile from spreading across his face.

Tony’s lips twitch upwards in response, clearing his throat and unlocking his feet, he slides down the wall to stand on his own feet, arms still up but sliding down to rest at Steve’s neck.

Tony inhales, seeming to gear himself up for something, but Steve says something first.

“Is this the part where you say this never happened and we go fight Loki?”

Smirking, Tony grips Steve’s shirt and pulls him down to where their faces lined back up, lips mere inches from each other.

“This is the part where we go back to my room, have mind-blowing sex, and THEN go fight Loki.”

Too distracted by trying to figure out how to locate Loki, all of the SHIELD agents they pass in the hall during their mad dash back to Tony’s room don’t even notice that Iron Man and the Captain are holding hands. They even miss the fact that the latter is grinning goofily.

\--

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this one really quick months and months ago. Decided I might as well post it. This is one of the few that I wrote straight into the comment box, so there are probably some errors. :/ I'll get around to editing eventually.


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